


Deamus Prompted Drabbles

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Promped Deamus drabbles from my blog.





	1. "Wait, why aren't you wearing pants?"

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is the highest of all the drabbles, but the drabbles vary in rating and content.
> 
> Chapter title is the prompt line for the drabble, and any additional detail is in the chapter notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by jadepresley (ship choice left to me).

“Wait, why aren’t you wearing pants?”

Seamus looked down, and blinked. “I’m not wearing shoes either.”

Ron was almost choking behind Harry, and it was hard to ignore. 

“It’s the middle of the day, Seamus,” Harry complained, trying not to look. “The last thing I want to see when I walk into the dorm is your bloody cock!”

Ron tugged at Harry’s sleeve. Turning to tell him to cut it out, he saw Ron pointing to the left. 

Following his gesture, he noticed a pair of dark-skinned feet and shins sticking out from the bottom of the curtains by the window.

Clearing his throat, he avoided looking at Seamus and his understandably hard cock. “Well then, we’ll…uh…leave you to it.” 

It seemed the perfect time for a hasty retreat.


	2. He didn't even feel the impact as he fell to his knees amongst the rubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon.

He didn’t even feel the impact, as he fell to his knees amongst the rubble. 

“Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” Dean was frantic as he rushed over, his hands patting him down, looking for injury, as he crouched in front of him.

Seamus shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I just…you’re alive.”

Dean stilled. “So are you,” he said, a few moments later, his voice cracking.

“We both made it,” Seamus whispered, leaning forward, wrapping his arms around him.

“We did,” Dean replied, holding him back tightly, as others searched out their loved ones around them, now that the battle was over.


	3. "Technically it wasn't on fire." "Of course it wasn't on fire! You blew the fucking thing up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by starshaping.

“Technically, it wasn’t on fire.”

Dean gave Seamus a dark look.

“Of course it wasn’t on fire! You blew the fucking thing up!”

Seamus rubbed the back of his neck. “Everyone thought it was hilarious, and intentional. No one cared.”

“No one cared?” Dean sputtered. “What about me? I care!”

“It was just a cake,” Seamus muttered, wincing as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Dean put his wine glass down so hard the stem broke. “Our _wedding_ cake. At _our wedding_. The most important day of our lives. Ruined, because you thought it was funny to blow up our fucking cake!”

Seamus watched the wine drip off the table, and start to stain the carpet. He had a feeling that drawing his wand to clean it up would get him landed on the couch for the night. Although, looking at how irritated Dean was, that was likely anyway.

Dean was the one who had wanted the big wedding. He was the one who was so insistent on getting every little detail right. Seamus had known he was going to cock it up somehow, but he hadn’t thought Dean would be this upset.

Grimacing, he made a helpless gesture. “What do you want me to say, Dean? I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said weakly. He was still so embarrassed about it himself. “I was emotional. You know how my magic gets when I’m emotional.”

Dean scoffed. “I worry about the future of our marriage, if you were feeling something at our wedding that led to destructive magic!”

Seamus scowled, and looked away. “I made things blow up the first few times we had sex. You didn’t take it this way then.”

Dean didn’t reply, and Seamus dared to look at him again. He was frowning, and still the red wine stained the carpet.

This was not how Seamus had imagined his wedding night would go.

“Dean, it’s not about what _kind_ of emotion I feel when I blow things up. I’ve tried to tell you this before, but you never seem to get it. It’s about _how much_ I feel.”

Dean scoffed, finally drawing his wand, cleaning away the mess, and repairing the glass. “So I’m supposed to believe you were so overwhelmed by happiness and love, that you blew up our fucking cake? While you weren’t even trying to cast magic?”

Seamus looked at his feet, feeling his face burn. “It was our first dance as a married couple. Sorry if my feelings got in the way of your perfect day.”

“You don’t even like formal dancing,” Dean muttered.

Cringing, Seamus made another helpless gesture. “But it’s a thing. The first dance at a wedding. It’s... I just… I was… fuck this!” he finally snapped. “You knew who you were marrying. Sometimes I blow things up. Get over it. I didn’t even want a big wedding. I only did that for you. Don’t be such a wanker. It was just the cake. At least I didn’t make something flammable explode this time!”

He stepped closer, and glared up at Dean. “If you’re so upset, then _you_ can sleep on the couch to get some space. I’m not exactly happy I blew it up either. It’s bloody embarrassing. It’s just pure luck that they all thought it was staged. I’m not letting you ruin today by being a pissy little shit about this.”

Dean blinked down at him. His cheeks were darkening, and Seamus set his face in the stubborn expression that Dean should know meant he wouldn’t back down.

“You…” Dean swallowed, and his gaze darted to the side for a moment. “You blew up the cake, because you were overwhelmed… by a waltz?”

Seamus scowled. “You cried during the ceremony. You don’t get to call me out on this.”

“I had dust in my eye!”

“Like hell you did,” Seamus snorted. “Come on, love. Wouldn’t you be more upset if I _hadn’t_ blown something up? Think about what that would have said. That I wasn’t sufficiently emotional at our wedding.”

Dean gave him a considering look. “I didn’t think about it that way.”

“No, because you’re still being a sappy little shit about your perfect wedding not going perfectly to plan.”

“Piss off!”

“Not yet. Part of the perfect wedding is the shag at the end,” Seamus said, gesturing towards the bedroom. “Or are your feelings still too hurt for that?”

Dean’s expression darkened.

“That’s what I thought,” Seamus said, starting to walk backwards towards their room, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. “But don’t force yourself. We must protect those delicate sensibilities. I can certainly fuck myself, if you need to weep over the cake some more.”

“ _Seamus_!” Dean growled, advancing on him.

Seamus made a gleeful sound before he could stop himself. “Ooh, that kind of shag, eh?” he said, as he backed into the bedroom. “Hope you’re prepared for another explosion. Not going to get all weepy again, are you? Because wedding night plus a rough shag, I am definitely going to—”

Dean cut him off with a rough kiss, and Seamus internally high-fived himself.

From a potential night on the couch, to a fantastic shag. And he only had to embarrass himself a little with that admission about the dancing.

With any luck, Dean would be pissed the next morning about whatever he blew up while they shagged, and he’d have forgotten all about Seamus’ sappy admission.


	4. “How the hell are we going to explain this?” “Uh… Aliens?” “...Aliens?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by starshaping.

“How the hell are we going to explain this?” Seamus muttered, surveying the mess that had been their dorm room.

“Uh… Aliens?”

Seamus raised an eyebrow at Dean. “...Aliens?”

“Aliens.”

Seamus turned back to the mess. Every bed was reduced to splinters and scraps of fabric and mattress stuffing. All the chests had been thrown open, their contents strewn about.

“I was going to say Peeves,” he muttered, still surprised they had managed to cause such destruction.

“Oh,” Dean muttered, looking a bit lost. “That makes more sense.”

Seamus nodded, and turned just in time to watch the fractured remains of Harry’s bed frame splinter into a pile of broken wood.

“Let’s never keep our wands on us while drunk, yeah?”

Dean nodded. “Should we just…?”

“Pretend we slept on the couches in the common room and never knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“We shouldn’t have stayed for Christmas.”

“We shouldn’t have touched Trelawney’s egg nog.”


End file.
